


Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence

by BewareTheIdes15



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Facials, M/M, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Weechesters, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-06
Updated: 2011-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/pseuds/BewareTheIdes15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Whatcha thinking about, Sammy?" he asks, voice thick and deep enough to sink right through Sam's skin and set him trembling.</p><p>"Sucking your dick," is out of his mouth before the fact-checkers in his brain even get a look at it and Sam's throat closes up with a choked sound on the next breath to try and keep him from embarrassing himself again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence

**Author's Note:**

> Title from P!nk's "Bad Influence" because I suck at titles.

Sam shoots bolt upright, warm sheets pooling around his hips; dragged out of some half-formed dream by the explosion of metallic clanging it takes him too long to realize is the damn motel phone. By that time, Dean's already picked it up and Sam flops backward like a dead fish, trying to calm the spike of adrenalin coursing through his blood. He watches the artificial light of the television flicker blue-white-orange on the ceiling as he listens to the soft drone of his brother's voice. Dad's going to be gone a couple of days longer than he thought - big freaking surprise. And of course, he had to call at two in the morning - when he knows tomorrow's a school day - to let them in on this startling revelation. Thanks Dad.

Dean says 'yessir' for the fifty-fourth time and sets the receiver down with a soft clang. It's not until then that Sam can actually pick out the tinny sounds coming from the almost-muted TV - moans and gasps and holy shit, what did that guy just say!? Bracing himself up on an elbow Sam actually looks at the screen and then immediately drops his eyes to the sheets, face burning red. Porn! Dean's watching freaking porn, with Sam right there in the room.

"Dude! What are you doing!" he squeaks at his brother - damn changing voice. Dean huffs a laugh, settling back against the headboard and Sam's eyes instantly get stuck on his brother's dick. His brother's big, hard, exposed dick, the flickering light of electronic sex catching on the wetness at the crown.

"You're the one in all the accelerated classes, Sammy. You figure it out."

Sam's staring, he knows it, and he's going to stop any second now but it's like his eyes have become magnetized and Dean's cock is a lodestone. And while most people might be a little squeamish to have their little brother openly staring at their hard on, Dean's Dean, so he just arches under the attention and braces a thumb at the base to make sure Sam gets a prime view.

"Can't you like, do that in the bathroom or something, like a normal person?" He snaps, because Dean's looking too damn smug for his own good and it's making Sam's dick twitch in a way he really shouldn't want to think about.

"How'm I gonna see the TV from the bathroom, genius?" Dean retorts, giving his cock a little stroke to drag Sam's gaze right back down.

"D-doesn't this stuff cost money?" he really meant for that to sound forceful, "Dad's gonna be pissed, Dean."

"Seriously," Dean rolls his eyes, hand still moving in a slow tease over the shaft, "How many times have you seen me rig up cable? You think I'm gonna pay for porn?" Okay, fine, Sam can accept that maybe his brother has a point there, but he's not about to tell Dean that. Dean's friendly, "Wanna watch?" totally throws Sam for a loop - because it was the last thing he was expecting and because he's not really sure which part he was just invited to watch - but hell yes, he does.

Shrugging his shoulders as casually as he can, Sam moves so his back's to the headboard, mirroring of his brother. He shoots one last glance over at Dean, still slowly stroking himself, then tries to focus on the television.

On the screen it's two guys and a girl on a leather couch and Sam's first thought is how bad that has to suck - he's totally gotten stuck to the Impala's seat after long car trips in the summer and it feels like the leather's chemically bonded with his shorts-clad skin. Probably not what he's supposed to be thinking about now. Then one of the guys stands up and holds out the biggest cock Sam has ever seen - not that he's seen a lot - and the girl's opening her mouth and okay, that's hot.

It's a close-up on the mouth, can't even really see her face, just pouty lips wrapped slick around this long stiff cock plunging in and out and it's getting him hard for all the wrong reasons. The air is burning in Sam's lungs, fire pitting down into his stomach as he imagines what that would feel like; to be stuffed that full, mouth forced open around smooth, hard flesh. It's not that he's into guys or anything, not seriously anyway, but there's something about the idea of being used, being wanted, like that - it makes his throat clench reflexively.

He nearly decks Dean - hunting reflex - when his brother suddenly crashes down onto the bed next to him, practically startling Sam out of his skin.

"Share with the class, dude," his brother grins, flipping the sheet off of Sam's legs and leaving him with nothing to hide behind but his obviously tented boxers. He should totally be excused for squeaking again when Dean just reaches over, all casual-like, and freaking _pulls Sam's cock out_! With his hand! Dean's _hand_ \- the hand that he had just been jerking himself off with - on Sam's _dick_! That's totally squeak worthy.

Dean shoves at Sam's shoulder until his body obeys the tacit command - his brain is still stuck on the wet splotch of Dean's precome that got wiped along the side of his own shaft when Dean touched him - to make room on the bed.

"Gotta at least touch it, Sammy," Dean bumps Sam's shoulder with his own again jokingly, but his voice is pitched an octave too low and it makes Sam stomach lurch like it's trying to roll in on itself. Then his brother blinks like he just thought of something, and when his eyes pop back open the pupils have shot twice as wide as usual. "Don't you?"

He doesn't miss the way Dean's fingers suddenly tighten up at the base of his dick - couldn't miss it with the way Sam's eyes keep flicking back to his brother's swollen length every four seconds - like he has to hold himself back and damn if it doesn't make Sam's dick leap. He can't even begin to remember the question Dean asked him with his brother sitting this close, green eyes boring into Sam like he can see all the dirty things in Sam's soul and likes it.

A flash of glittering pink as Dean's tongue flickers out to wet his lips; a nice long look at it when his brother repeats the move good and slow, watching Sam's eyes as they follow it.

"Whatcha thinking about, Sammy?" he asks, voice thick and deep enough to sink right through Sam's skin and set him trembling.

"Sucking your dick," is out of his mouth before the fact-checkers in his brain even get a look at it and Sam's throat closes up with a choked sound on the next breath to try and keep him from embarrassing himself again. As it is, he's right on the brink of running outside and hiding under the car until Dad gets back. Except Dean's forehead is resting on his as his brother draws in these gasping breaths and Sam can't just leave him like that, has to at least make sure he's okay.

"Shit, Sam" Dean exhales, "Fuckin' trying to kill me?"

"I-I didn't mean-I-uh," Sam stumbles, trying to come up with damn anything to say to erase the fact that he just freaking propositioned his brother.

"You didn't?" Now Dean looks scared too; distracting, plump lips caught between his teeth.

"I-" Sam's eyes skip off of Dean's, needing to look at absolutely anything else while he tries to figure out how to lie to the one person he was never taught to. They end up right back on Dean's straining shaft - leaking precome like a faucet until it's sliding over the fingers Dean still has gripped tight around his base - and Sam really didn't mean to lick his lips, he was just so scared he was about to drool, but all it does is make Dean moan like a bitch.

"Have you ever?" his brother asks, nose nudging against Sam's.

Sam can't make his mouth work right to answer, throat clicking as he swallows around the fiery ball of ice lodged there. Instead he just shakes his head against Dean's and tries not to pant like a dog even though his hammering heart isn't getting nearly enough air. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen to the brain that makes him open up when Dean lifts his fluid-stained fingers toward Sam's mouth, but whatever it is, his throbbing dick is grateful for it. Sam licks at the digits tentatively, brain still trying to process the 'what the fuck' while his body's stuck on 'feels so good'.

The flavor melts across his tongue, strong and bitter-sweet and a lot like his own from the times his been brave enough or turned on enough to taste it. He feels his eyelids flutter closed and the starved noise that worms its way out of his throat and then he's got three of Dean's finger shoved as far inside his mouth as they will go.

His brother shudders on the bed next to him, rough fingertips stroking - goddamn petting - Sam's tongue as he works the slick muscle into each dip and crevice. He sucks until there's nothing left on Dean's skin but the taste of Sam's own saliva and whines, then his big brother leans in close and whispers, "Lots more where that came from," in a voice that sounds blistered and raw. That's exactly how Sam wants his throat to feel - wants it to feel that way because of the thrust of Dean's thick cock - and he's going down for it so fast his stomach jumps.

His brother coaxes him with his hand until Sam's settled between Dean's wide-spread thighs and he's face to face with the wet, flexing opening of his brother's dick. The musky, body smell is so strong from here - air thinned out and replaced by 'Dean' - every inhale flares the fire in Sam's lungs, every exhale sending skittering tingles across his chest that pebble his nipples. A part of him really wants to get his fingers on the stiff nubs the way he does sometimes when he jerks off, but he's too focused on Dean's cock and the urgent whimpers his brother is making as he shifts his hips fitfully under Sam's gaze.

Again he starts with a tentative lick, this time right to the slit. Dean gasps and bucks up so hard that Sam's got a stripe of his brother's fluid slicked from under his chin all the way up his cheek. Sam groans because now he's not going to get to taste that but Dean's cursing a blue streak that sounds more like a prayer, running his thumb right along the edge of that stripe like it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. In fact, his brother may have said something to that effect, but it's so hard to pay attention to little things like words when he's got big things like Dean's cock resting against his lips.

He hasn't got a clue what he's doing - except for the abbreviated glimpse of the now ignored porno playing in the background, he's only ever seen pictures of this in the magazines Dean sneaks him - but he parts his lips anyway, just enough to slide the swollen head inside his mouth, and gives it a hesitant suck. Dean's hips surge up again, so fast that the blunt head slams into the back of Sam's throat and brings him up coughing and sputtering.

Dean's right there, apologizing over and over as he smoothes the hair back from Sam's face compulsively.

"I'm okay," Sam promises, even though his voice has gone rough now too, and Dean only puts up a half-hearted resistance as Sam leans back down over his dick. He holds himself there for a second, eyes flicking up to his brother and Dean writhes with a hiss the second their gaze meets.

The older boy snatches Sam's hands, settling them on Dean's hips and pressing firmly.

"Just- just hold me down. Don't want to hurt you," Dean pleads head nodding in answer to some question Sam didn't hear. Sam does as he's told - 'for once' Dean's voice snarks in his head - forcing as much weight as he can onto the sturdy wings of bone and closes his mouth over his brother's straining erection again.

Another suck to the head has Dean cussing, a spurt of precome splashing onto the flat of Sam's tongue and he moans around it, pulling harder with his mouth as Dean's voice and body encourage him on.

"That's it, so good, fucking drink me," Dean babbles as Sam nurses at the flowing tip. Slowly Sam works himself lower, taking more of Dean into his mouth with every slow bob of his head.

Dean's thighs are shaking by the time Sam's got the head bumping at the back of his throat again, a whole cavalcade of 'filthy, wrong, have to stop' flooding out of Dean's mouth that doesn't even come close to matching the heavy press of his hand on the back of Sam's head, keeping him right where he is.

Sam's skin is crawling in the best possible way; everything inside him humming electric with the weight of Dean's dick on his tongue, the way his brother shakes and thrashes if Sam thrusts the point of his tongue into the slit. The fact that he can do this, make Dean want him like this, is a hot dump of liquid thrill along his nerves and he's never going to stop needing it now that he's been here.

His own heavy cock presses into his stomach on every downstroke. He carefully slides one hand down from his brother's hips into his own lap but before he can get a good grip, the sharp pain of Dean tugging his hair to pull him up has him gasping.

"Come on me," Dean commands, the fierceness sparking in his eyes wrecked by his breathy voice. "Want you to blow your wad all over my cock and watch you lick it up."

"Shit," is the best response Sam can manage, Dean's words setting off rolls of pure voltage in him as his system shuts down to 'do that now'.

He hadn't even been paying much attention to the aching pressure of his own hard-on, but now that he is, even the stroke of his own fingers is as much pain as it is pleasure on the ignored flesh. Dean's goading him on, harsh whispered obscenities hanging in the heated air - telling Sam he's beautiful, he's a slut, he's all Dean's and it's just making Sam's cock pulse harder. He's so close, coming right up on it with the hard stripping of his fingers, then Dean's hand twists in his hair and his brother barks out rough and deadly serious,

"Come!"

And Sam couldn't hold back if he wanted to; the 'do that now' part of him roaring to the surface with a vengeance, needing to do anything, everything Dean says because it's so right, so good and the world's sizzling out to silver haze as he arches and shoots all over his brother's groin.

Dean's dick, his balls, are covered in Sam's milky thickness; it's so fucking hot Sam's dick hasn't even wilted to half-hard before it's filling back up again. He doesn't need the encouragement of Dean's hand pushing him back down, but he takes it anyway, revels in the force of his brother's need for him.

Sam laps at the velvet skin of Dean's sac, sparse hairs prickling at his lips and he's not even close to finished there when the urge to go lower hits. He rolls with it, tongue seeking the errant drops of his come spilled onto his brother's dark, secret skin, finding the furled mouth of Dean's opening and that gets Dean squirming just as hard as the sucking did. Sam's making a hell of a mess, come smeared all over his cheeks and nose and chin, licking up everything he can get at.

Laving around the base makes Dean's hands slap flat to the bed, these choked off keening noises eking out around his brother's clenched teeth. Dean's only saying one word now, stuttering it out under his breath - Sam's name over and over and over. The smooth expanse of Sam's throat is pressed against Dean's balls as he laps his brother's cock clean and he can feel the sac draw tighter the higher he licks. Precome is still pouring from the head, blood flooding under the skin in heavy, jumping pulses Sam can time with his questing tongue and he knows his brother's not going to make it much longer. He's going to make sure of it.

Sam lays down one long, wet lick on the underside of Dean's cock, then without warning, clamps his teeth around the delicate knot of nerves under the head and Dean goddamn screams to high heaven. Slick heat shoots hard against the side of Sam's face, spattering into his hair and if that's not better than coming it's freaking close. _He_ did that. _He_ made his brother come like that - like his spine was shooting out of his dick - and left him boneless and mewling. And that's just awesome.

"Jesus, Sammy. Fuck," Dean gasps, one hand pressing over his heart like he's trying to keep it in his chest. "What-" he starts, then seems to think better of it, grabbing Sam's hand and pulling him to lay half on top of Dean's body instead.

His brother sweeps a thumb through the cooling mess on Sam's cheek then kisses softly and his overheated, puffy lips. Sam's brain shorts out, whole body freezing up because for some demented reason kissing his brother seems a whole lot dirtier that sucking his dick. Dean's tongue slides along the seam of Sam's closed lips, then his slick thumb pushes at Sam's chin, opening Sam's mouth to let himself in when his little brother can't take the hint.

Dean's tongue rolls around inside Sam's mouth for a while, searching out all of the soft, sensitive places that make his breath catch and Sam can't do anything but lay back and let him. At last Sam's mouth is released, a final quick kiss turning into a couple dozen nibbling caresses before Dean heaves a sigh and pulls back. He stares at Sam like he's a stranger, but a smile slowly creeps its way onto the corners of Dean's mouth.

"You're a mess kid," he grins, flicking at the shambles of come in Sam's hair. Sam shrugs his shoulders and whumps down into a pillow; his brother's smiles are infectious.

"C'mon," Dean taps his leg, "Shower. I am not gonna listen to you whine about dried jizz in your hair tomorrow." Sam groans his disapproval but Dean's got a hold on one wrist, practically dragging him off of the bed and hustling him toward the bathroom. His brother pantses Sam as soon as his feet hit cold tile, forgotten boxers ripped down his legs into a puddle on the ground. Sam puts on the best glare he can muster, but that's not saying much when his muscles feel all mellow and contented. "Go on," his brother jerks a stubbled chin toward the shower, and leers "Be a good boy and maybe I'll let you blow me again after."

Sam's dick rockets back to hard - he never got around to taking care of it the second time - and he leers right back at Dean as his brother's eyes travel down to it.

"Think you can get it up again, old man?" he smirks, voice coming out way more gravelly than he expected.

Dean straightens his head, emphasizing the scant two inches in height he still has on Sam, and quips "You just worry about yourself, small fry. I got no problem taking that ass for a ride too."

It's completely wrong that those words make Sam's cock smack audibly into his belly, but he doesn't acknowledge it. Instead, he just rolls his eyes and leans to turn on the shower. Dean lingers a couple of seconds too long while Sam is bent over, then slips back into the bedroom out of sight. Sam hopes Dean's ready to live up to that promise; it's going to be one hell of a short shower.


End file.
